บท 41: Drunken Truth

In the candle-lit room, Xu Feng could feel his heart race as the young master leaned in closer, his warm breath grazing the nape of Xu Feng's neck. 

It started like a light flutter, like feathers dancing on the skin. The hairs on his neck stood on end, responding to the gentle caress of his breath.

Xu Feng's breath caught in his throat, and his senses sharpened. It was a tingling that spread slowly, like water ripples.

His eyelids fluttered as the tingling sensation deepened, it was like time had suspended, and the world had narrowed down to this one point of contact. 

Xuan Yang repeated himself with a lowered voice, "Focus."

A shiver of excitement raced down his spine, awakening an animalistic desire that was dormant within him. He clutched the deep red robes of the other man. 

Instead of butterflies in his stomach, it felt like a caged beast, lurking in the shadows of his consciousness, ready to break free and consume everything in its path.